From The Beginning
by SlowSister1
Summary: You can change it if you start from the beginning." After Draco's death Harry has trouble letting go. A man in Knockturn Alley gives him a strange potion and covinces Harry he can change it from the beginning.DH slash
1. May He Forever Be Guarded By His Lion

**DISCLAIMER: **I shouldn't have to tell you that the world of Harry Potter is not mine. This is a **FAN** fiction and if you don't know that you shouldn't be here. If you decide to sue me anyway I hope you have fun with your three dollars.

**WARNING:** This is a slash story meaning boy/boy relationship. If you don't like that don't read it. I'm warning you for a reason.

**SUMMARY:** "You can change it if you start from the beginning." After Draco's death Harry has trouble letting got. When a man in Knockturn Alley gives him a strange potion Harry decides he can bring Draco back if he starts from the beginning.

**A/N:** This story is the product of me reading too many Harry and Draco fictions. It was inspired by a number of stories I've read. If it is similiar to any other story here that is just a coinesidence and is not intentional.

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**Chapter One : May He Forever Be Guarded By His Lion**

_I miss you_

_I miss you so bad_

_I don't forget you_

_Oh it's so sad-_

__  
  
Harry could see the snitch hovering just inches from the ground. The sun reflected off of its golden surfaces sending a slight glare into his eyes. That's how he first noticed it, the glare had hit his face and blinded him for a second. He wasn't the only one that saw it, however.  
  
They were both racing towards it, neck in neck, both on the fastest brooms money could buy, identical Shooting Arrows. The air stung Harry's face he was going so fast, trying to get to the snitch first. It didn't really matter though, who won, because there would be no hard feelings afterwards, only great celebration sex. Harry was looking forward to that. That's why he had to get to that snitch, not so he could win it for his team, but so that he could end the bloody game to get to the real fun.  
  
He glanced over at the opposing Seeker beside him. His face etched with concentration, the grip on his broom tight. The air had whipped the tie out of his white blond hair so that now it flowed behind him reflecting the sunlight like a golden ribbon of silk. The green and scarlet of his robes made his skin look even paler, while the vertical stripes made him look extremely stupid. Harry loved to tease him about how foolish he looked in those things if only so he could see him looking pouty and irritated as he drawled out, "Malfoy's never look foolish, no matter what they wear. We leave that to the Potter's." That would only make Harry laugh more which usually resulted in being pounced on by the blonde, something Harry didn't mind one bit.  
  
The crowd, that had gone quiet the moment the two Seekers had begun to dive for the snitch, began to make noise once again as they drew closer. Hoots, shouts and whistles of encouragement along with boos and stomps as the fans tried to distract the opposing teams Seeker from the snitch, while knowing, that for each Seeker, the person right beside them was distraction enough.  
  
Just seconds from the snitch both Seekers glanced up at once. Steel grey eyes met emerald green. Everything seemed to slow down for a moment as the other Seeker flashed Harry a quick smile that seemed to fall naturally onto blond's usually blank face. Harry returned the smile, registering the laughter in those steel eyes as his opponent turned back to the snitch. Harry did the same and time crashed back into place, they were mere inches from the snitch and from the ground.  
  
Harry reached out his hand just as the other Seeker did but the snitch darted down lower skimming the grass. For a moment Harry felt the cool touch of the gold on his fingers tips but then the snitch moved a little to the left out his reach. Reacting quickly Harry pulled out of the dive, the tips of his toes skimming the ground just as a sickening crunch sounded behind him followed by a loud thump. Turning his broom around sharply, Harry felt his breath catch in his throat.  
  
He was laying face flat against the ground with his blond hair fanned out around him. Crimson red liquid stained the white locks and the green grass. Beside him his broom lay snapped in half. The whole stadium was in an uproar of shouts, officials calling for medi-wizards, fans gasping and whispering, the sound of a dozen pairs of feet hitting the ground, running.   
  
But Harry heard none of this. For him everything seemed to have gone deathly quite, completely devoid of sound as if a silencing charm had been placed on his ears. He was only aware of jumping off his broom and running over to the fallen player. There didn't seem to be a thought in his mind. It was as if, for a second, everything had gone blank for him except for his sight, because there was no doubt that he was seeing.  
  
He reached the other man's side before any of the other players even registered his fall. Dropping down to his knees he flipped the other Seeker over onto his back. His face was pale, his cheek smeared with red, his eyes open but slightly glazed. Harry felt a gust of air escape his chest as he noticed the rising and falling of the other man's chest. The fact that it was more like frantic heaving was not something Harry noticed.  
  
Harry pulled the other man into his lap running his fingers on the pale cheeks in some what of a daze. The grey eyes flickered over to his face and for a second brightened to silver. A pained, lazy sort of smile came onto the other man's face as he looked up at Harry.  
  
"Harry," he said in a soft whisper. For the first time Harry noticed the other man's right hand was balled into a tight fist clutching something close to his chest. Slowly the man opened his hand to reveal a tiny, struggling, golden snitch. "Look, Harry, I got the snitch. I finally beat you."  
  
"You did," Harry whispered smiling as his sight suddenly got blurry. The smile was still on the other man's face when his eyes went off focus and his grip on the tiny ball went lax. The ball fluttered from his fist and up into the air unnoticed by anyone, because everyone was watching, stunned, as a crying Harry Potter-Malfoy leaned over a still Draco Malfoy-Potter whispering, "Draco, wake up."  
  
But Draco didn't wake. 

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Harry wasn't listening to whatever it was the ancient Wizard Priest was saying, he didn't really care. All he cared about was the fact that they had put his Draco into a box. Draco would hate it, he never liked closed in places. "It's like being held back," he had told Harry once. "Suffocating, restraining. Like being in a cage."  
  
Harry wanted to rush forward, pull the lid open, and pull Draco out. "Just put him in the dirt," he wanted to scream. "He won't be able to breath in there." It didn't matter to Harry that Draco didn't need to breath anymore, he just wanted him out of the fucking box.  
  
He was vaguely aware of Hermione standing on his left and Ron on his right. Vaguely aware of Narcissa sitting beside Dumbledore a few places away crying softly. Vaguely aware of the twenty or so people behind them watching and crying. None of them really mattered right then, the only thing that mattered was Draco.  
  
It was about an hour later that Harry stood alone in front of the grey stone under the still Whomping Willow tree on the Hogwarts grounds. The stone was rectangular shaped divided in half by carved line. On one side the words _"Here Lies Draco Malfoy-Potter loving husband, devoted son and loyal friend. May he forever be guarded by his Lion"_ were chiselled into the stone. The other side was blank but Harry knew one day it would read, _"Here Lies Harry Potter-Malfoy loving husband, loyal friend and devoted saviour. May he forever be guarded by his Dragon"_. Above the inscribed side a stone lion sat in a guarding position, face fierce and dangerous looking. Emerald green eyes sparkled out from the grey face, staring straight ahead. It's tale snaked around the top of the stone to curl around the spiked tail of the dragon that stood guard over the other half of the grave. His face was also solemn and watching with bright silver eyes. One day Harry would lay guarded under the dragon.  
  
"_Where do you want to be buried?"_ The voice seemed to floating on the cool wind, whispered to Harry from somewhere in the past.  
  
"What do you mean, Draco," Harry asked.  
  
_"When you die, where do you want to be buried,"_ the voice answered. Harry thought for a moment wanting to give it a serious well thought out answer.  
  
"At Hogwarts," he said finally. "It was my first real home. Under the Whomping Willow because it's where I first kissed you." Harry could see Draco smile. "What about you? Where do you want to be buried?" Draco's eyes looked at him, dark, thoughtful.  
  
_"It doesn't really matter,"_ his voice said. _"As long as I'm beside you."  
_  
Harry dropped to his knees smiling softly. He reached out and brushed his fingers gently over the engraving as if would somehow help him feel Draco instead.  
  
"Don't worry Draco," he whispered. "I'll always be beside you."

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Inside the Great Hall about twenty-five people sat huddled around small tables, standing in dark corners, leaning against friends shoulders talking softly. They were all dressed in solemn black dress robes. Some sipped thoughtfully from their goblets while others picked wearily at their food. There was no laughter, only the occasional smile as memories where shared with one another.  
  
Hermione looked around at all the sad, drawn out faces. Both the Caerphilly Catapults and the Ballycastle Bats Quidditch teams had been invited. Harry and Draco's teams. Narcissa sat in a corner off by herself, Draco's only remaining relative. Crabbe and Goyle, Draco's only remaining true friends since before the war, stood talking to Ron who was holding his goblet in his only remaining hand. The other, along with his left eye, had been cut off during the war by Lucius Malfoy when he had been captured and tortured for information on Harry's whereabouts during their seventh year. It had been Draco who had saved him. Dumbledore and Snape were the only two professors who had been invited. Snape was sitting at a table by himself seemingly staring at nothing while Dumbledore stood talking quietly to Jacob Dunbar and Lisa Conner, two of Draco's recent friends since graduation. Remus sat talking to three others, James and Marcus Shelsworth and Judy Summers. Hermione stood by the door waiting for Harry.  
  
That was until she say Kevin O'Keath, one of the Ballycastle Beaters, sitting off by himself away from the other Quidditch players. He was staring down at the table, his eyes wide in shock as they had been since the day of the game.  
  
Hermione limped over and took the seat opposite him, no longer wincing from the pain in her leg. She had also been captured by Lucius that night, but Ron came out the worst of the two.  
  
"Hello Kevin," she said softly not wanting to startle him. He looked up slowly until his brown eyes, clouded by his sandy hair, were directed on her. He could see compassion etched on Hermione's usually stern face as she gazed at him. For some reason he knew he could tell her what he had been too afraid to say to anyone else, he thought for sure that she would understand. He knew he had to tell someone and he knew he could never say it to Harry.  
  
"I killed him," he whispered searching Hermione's eyes for anger or disgust. After a moment when the look in her eyes hadn't changed he continued. "I hit the bludger to stop him from getting the snitch. They were going to win and I had to stop him."  
  
"You didn't kill him Kevin," Hermione whispered. "The Medi-Wizards said it was the combined force of the bludger and the impact. If he would have pulled out the dive faster he would have been okay."  
  
"If I hadn't of hit the bludger he would have been okay." Kevin blinked furiously against the onslaught of tears he felt building behind his eyes. "I killed him. I didn't mean to."  
  
"I know," was all Hermione could think to say.  
  
A half hour later when Harry walked in every one looked up but no one moved. They could all see the pain radiating from the man, so much of it, it was hard to look at him without feeling it too. He looked so much older and tired than anyone of only twenty-six should look. No one tried to talk to him because they all knew there was nothing they could say to make to pain go away.  
  
No one was surprised when he walked across the room and took the seat opposite Snape. The two men sat in silence for a long while as people slowly began to leave. Out of the blue Harry looked up at Snape, sadness turning his green eyes dark and shadowed. He studied the older mans face for a moment, taken in the dark eyes and shallow skin that made the two diagonal scars on his cheeks stand out.  
  
"He died happy," he said to the other man. Snape snapped out of his daze to stare at the young wizard. Harry looked right back at him smiling a little. "He caught the snitch and beat me for the first time. He was smiling. He died happy."  
  
Snape just stared at Harry for a long moment with troubled black eyes before he gave a slight nod. Harry returned the nod and then both wizards went back to staring quietly at nothing.

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Ronald Weasley was worried about Harry. It had been six months since Draco's death and he hadn't even started to get better. If anything he seemed to be getting worst. He had moved out of the flat him and Draco had lived in for six years about two months ago to live with Ron and Hermione at their house in the country. He said he couldn't stand the way the walls would talk to him. "They always sound like Draco," he had said. That was when Ron had first started to worry.  
  
Then there were the times he would leave in the middle of the night and not return until sometime in the early morning. At first Ron had dismissed it, thinking Harry just needed some time away. But then it became more frequent, till almost every night Ron could feel Harry Disapparate inside the wards around the house. One night Ron had placed a tracking spell on Harry and followed him. He found him at Hogwarts, under the Whomping Willow, curled up on his side of the grave, his invisibility cloak slipping off of him. Ron had never told Harry or Hermione that he had followed him but he did start to pay more attention to Harry.  
  
He never smiled, he never laughed. He had understandably quit Quidditch but he wasn't even trying to look for another job. Not that he needed one, the Potter and Malfoy fortunes combined where enough for him to live on comfortably for the rest of his life. He rarely came out of his room and when he did it was usually just for meals and at night when he went to Hogwarts.  
  
Ron had gone to speak to Dumbledore one day, letting him know what Harry did at night so at least he would be protected. Dumbledore had agreed with Ron that it was probably best not to confront Harry about it just yet knowing his sometimes violent temper. They decided that maybe he just needed a little bit more time and that they wouldn't intervene until it got too serious.  
  
But then Ron had started hearing the talking. Soft, incitant mumbling coming from Harry's room. At first Ron had just been slightly worried that Harry was talking to himself. He didn't think it was good for Harry to be talking to himself but he figured that sometimes you just have to say things out loud to understand them properly. He hoped Harry was running through some of the things in his mind and perhaps getting a little better, sorting out how he felt.  
  
One day Ron was walking down the hall to his study to look over one of his case files for his job as an Auror. No one would have ever thought Ron Weasley, probably the slowest one out of the Gryffindor Trio, would be the only one to become an Auror. After the war Harry had decided he had seen far too much of the Dark Arts and all the violence and had instead turned to his other passion, Quidditch. Hermione had kept with her charity aims and had become co-founder of a group called LAMC (Liberation for All Magical Creatures), who worked on getting rights for Magical Creatures all around the world. Everyone thought Ron would be the one to end up playing Quidditch but during the war he had changed.  
  
The things he had seen and went through had had a lasting effect on him. He had jumped more into his studies and had actually been tied with Hermione for grades in their last year. But then in Seventh Year he had been caught and tortured by Lucius Malfoy. He had lost his left eye, which had been replaced much later with a magical one much like Mad-Eyed Moody's, and his right hand. He never got a new hand. Some thought he wouldn't be able to be an Auror with those "handicaps" as they called them but that only made Ron more determined to prove them wrong. He had passed all his Auror exams at the top of his class and was now one of the best in the department.  
  
As Ron passed Harry's door he once again heard the mumbling. Letting his curiosity get the best of him Ron cast a spell to make whatever it was Harry was saying louder and listened.  
  
"Please," he heard Harry say. "Please don't go again. I need you here." A long pause and what sounded suspiciously like sobs. "Please just stay a while longer. I don't wanna be alone again tonight. Please stay, Draco." Another pause. "I can't let go, I love you."  
  
Ron didn't hear the last part, however, because he was already halfway down the hall after hearing Draco's name.

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Harry was furious. How dare they tell him he was delusional. How dare they tell him, subtlety, that he was going crazy, that he needed to let go. They had no right to tell him anything because they didn't know. Draco really did come to him sometimes, mostly when he was asleep, but sometimes when he was awake he could hear him. He couldn't see him but he could hear his voice, sometimes feel his touch. And he would never let Draco go. They didn't understand. Draco was apart of him, when Draco died he had died too.  
  
All he had wanted to do was punch Dumbledore who sat there talking to Harry in a gentle, bracing voice as if Harry was on the edge of insanity and could tip in over that edge at any moment. Harry knew he wasn't crazy and he hated the way Dumbledore had treated him like he was. Then there was Hermione looking like she was on the verge of tears, patting his shoulder and cooing over him like he was a child. And Ron. Ron who had followed him to the grave, Ron who had told Dumbledore, Ron who had eased dropped on him when he was talking to Draco, Ron who didn't know how keep his bloody mouth shut.  
  
"Harry," Dumbledore had said. "You have to let go. I know it 's hard but you have to learn to live without him. This holding on isn't healthy. Would Draco want you to continue like this or would he have wanted you to live, really live?"  
  
"Hell if I know," Harry muttered to himself storming down Diagon Alley. "He's dead remember." But he did know what Draco would want because he had told him. Almost every time he came to him he told him the same thing. That Harry was dieing inside, that he had to let go because he wanted him to live. That he would be waiting for him when it was his time.   
  
Harry didn't want to wait though, he wanted Draco now. Wanted to hold him, kiss him, touch him. Wanted his smiling face. His glittering silver eyes. Wanted his drawling voice and sneering lips. Wanted his laugh, his frown, his pale skin and silky hair. He wanted the conversations they had together, the silences they shared, the passions they experienced only with each other. He couldn't get any of that anywhere else, so he had to have Draco.  
  
Memories flew through he his mind. Draco at eleven standing on the stool in Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions talking in his haughty superior voice, unknowingly insulting Harry's first friend. Draco on the train holding out his hand. Draco at twelve calling Hermione a mudblood and gloating over the brooms brought by his father. Draco at thirteen sitting on the Quidditch Pitch in black robes after dressing up like a dementor to sabotage Harry's game. Draco at fourteen and fifteen general being a pain in the arse. Doing anything and everything to push Harry, Ron and Hermione's buttons.  
  
And then there was Draco in sixth year, coming back to school with empty vacant eyes and bruises on his face that not even Madam Pomfrey could heal. Draco shunning all of his friends except Crabbe and Goyle while ignoring Harry, Ron and Hermione all together. Draco shouting at Harry in a fit of rage about how his father had disowned him after he turned down Voldemorts offer for being a Death Eater. About how he had to live with Snape because he had nowhere else to go. And then Draco under the Whomping Willow where Harry found him one night. . .  
  
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**Flash Back  
**  
"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" Harry asked. He had just come from visiting Hagrid like he did so many nights. It was the only place he could go and talk about Sirius without being worried what someone would say if he cried. He had seen Hagrid cry often enough without being scared to do so himself.   
  
He had been looking down at the Marauder's Map making sure no one was any where near the front entrance of the school when he had seen Malfoy's name right under the Whomping Willow. Ever since Malfoy had told him about his father disowning him they had, had a kind of understanding. Not really a friendship but they agreed to leave each other and each other's friends alone and at least be civil.   
  
Harry had found himself walking toward the Whomping Willow without really deciding to do so. Once he realized where he was headed he had told himself Malfoy wouldn't want him around anyway and was just turning around to leave when he heard a noise. A noise that sounded like a sob and it was coming from by the Whomping Willow. Gathering his courage Harry had headed towards the sound.  
  
Draco had been huddled between the roots of the tree, his head dropped forward, his blond hair shinning in the moonlight. Every now and then he'd give a little shutter and drag in a ragged breath.  
  
At the sound of Harry's voice Draco looked up, he eyes wide with fear and surprise. Harry had pulled off the invisibility cloak so when Malfoy saw who it was the surprise was automatically replaced with anger though strangely enough the fear remained.  
  
"What does it look like I'm doing Potter?" he snapped ducking his face to wipe the tears away.  
  
"It looks like you were crying," Harry said amazed. Malfoy's don't cry, Harry told himself but he was seeing it so he couldn't really believe it wasn't true.  
  
"Your observational skill astound me Potter."  
  
Harry took a uncertain step forward. "Are you okay?"  
  
"I'm fucking brilliant Potter. Now what the hell do you want?"  
  
"I just wanted to see if you were okay," Harry said, purposely ignoring Malfoy's harsh tone. Draco looked up at Harry as if he could hear the honest concern in the other boys voice. Grey eyes met green and they both felt a shiver run through them as they saw the others eyes look at them for once with something else other than hate, anger or cool detachment. Without thinking Harry sat down beside Malfoy, who let him do so.  
  
"Is it about your dad?" Harry asked.  
  
"Yes," Malfoy answered. "And no. It's really about my mother."  
  
"Do you miss her."  
  
Draco shrugged and looked up through the branches of the trees at the moon. For a moment Harry was startled by how beautiful he looked with moonlight touching his cheeks and glistening in his hair while his eyes shimmered silver with unshed tears. Harry had never seen his eyes that color before. Grey, yes. Silver, never.  
  
"You must miss her," Harry said when Malfoy didn't speak again. "I mean, I miss my mother and I never even knew her. What's she like?"  
  
Malfoy seemed genuinely surprised by Harry's interest. He looked at him for a long moment and Harry found himself shifting uneasily under his gaze. Finally Draco spoke. "She's not the type of mother who holds you or kisses you. She was never like that, I don't think she knows who to be. Her mother was never like that with her so she didn't know how to be like that with me. But I know she cares, she just shows it differently, more subtilely. Like if I do something that makes her proud or happy she'll smile. It's a small smile, you probably wouldn't be able to see it but it's in her eyes really. They glow. Or when I need to talk to someone she listens, even if she doesn't say anything, like give me advise, she still listens."   
  
Malfoy went silent for a moment, staring off across the grounds, his eyes distant. "We go for walks around the grounds at our house. Through the gardens and down by the lake. We just walk, just me and her. Some of the happiest memories I have are of us walking together. Sometimes silence can say more than words."   
  
Draco voice had died to a whisper and a single tear slid down his cheek. Harry was mesmerized by the sight of it. It was like a glistening crystal against Draco's pale skin. Harry's hand moved and he gathered the tear on the tip of his finger, his skin grazing Draco's. Malfoy turned to look at him, the surprise and fear once again in his eyes and all over his face. Harry stared down at the tear as if he couldn't understand how it had gotten there. Then, slowly, he looked up at Malfoy to find the blond staring right at him.  
  
Harry raised his hand again cupping Draco cheek in his palm as he ran his thumb down the silver path the tear had created. He felt Draco shiver from his touch and saw his eyes flutter briefly. His was vaguely aware that his own breathing had turned slightly faster and heavier.  
  
"W-what are you doing," Draco stammered looking at Harry through heavy lids.  
  
"I don't know," Harry whispered. His eyes dropped to the blond's lips which were slightly parted. Draco's tongue slipped out unconsciously as he licked his lips leaving them glistening. Harry found he couldn't look away and he realized they were slowly getting closer, those lips, as if he were being draw towards them. "I really don't know." And he really didn't.  
  
"Well, you bloody well better figure out and get on with it," Draco snapped, though his voice seemed to lack it's usual arrogance and sounded instead almost breathless.  
  
Harry complied instantly and pressed his lips to Draco's. Harry had kissed only one other person before but he had never kissed another boy. He found it ironic that every time he kissed someone they seemed to be crying, though Draco wasn't as near as bad Cho, at least he wasn't sobbing.  
  
His lips were a little damp from when he had licked them so Harry's slipped slightly against them creating a tingling kind of friction. The tingling traveled from Harry's lips to his neck, to his stomach and then all the way to his toes. It made his stomach feel slightly queasy and his heart flutter but in a good, although slightly terrifying, way. What surprised Harry most was that Draco didn't pull back right away and hit him, or worst laugh hysterically at him and run off to tell the whole school. He just sat there, perfectly still as if he were afraid to move.  
  
The kiss was brief and chaste. Harry pulled back after a moment to look at Draco. His eyes were still closed and up this close Harry could see the tears clinging to his pale eyelashes and feel his breath in quick pants graze across Harry's chin.  
  
"Bloody hell, Potter," Draco whispered as his eyes fluttered open again. "Are you gonna just sit there all fucking night or are you kiss me again!"  
  
Harry could only smile as he leaned in again, this time more certain that Draco wasn't going to hit him or laugh hysterically and run off to tell the school.  
  
That was the beginning of it all for the both of them.  
  
**End Flash Back**  
  
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Harry was so lost in his own thoughts he didn't notice he had wandered into Knockturn Alley. The street was much darker and narrower than Diagon Alley. The witches and wizard dirtier and more haggard looking. It was night time and the smell of whisky hung heavy in the air. Witches dressed in tight almost see-through robes leered at him through doorways beckoning him to come hither. Wizards shoved all assortment of things under his nose and into his face. Harry was oblivious to it all. His thoughts were still on Draco.  
  
Suddenly someone grabbed him ruffly by the front of his robes and pulled him into a very narrow side alley. The smell of whisky was much stronger there and a little farther down he could see two men in dark robes huddled together passing small leather bags to each other.   
  
"You can change it if you start from the beginning," a wheezy voice from in front of him said.  
  
Harry turned to look at the man who had dragged him into the alley. He was old and hunched over with frizzy grey hair Harry could just see peeking through from under his hooded cloak. His skin was sickly pale, his bright blue eyes slightly bulging.  
  
"Excuse me?" Harry asked, startle and a little confused. The old wizard merely smiled showing off a mouth full of crooked, broken and cracked dirty teeth. He held up one finger and curled it towards him indicating for Harry to come closer. Harry leaned in closer some what interested.  
  
"You can change it if you start from the beginning," the old man repeated. He pulled something from inside his robe and held it up so Harry could see. It was a small flask filled with thick looking dark purple liquid. Harry eyed it wearily before shaking his head.  
  
"I'm sorry," he said. "I don't know what your talking about and I don't have time."  
  
He was already walking away when he heard the voice speak again.  
  
"You could bring him back. Your pretty little husband."  
  
Harry stopped and turned back slowly. "What?"  
  
"You can change it if you start from the beginning." The old man waved the vial invitingly. "All you do is have to drink this before you go to sleep while thinking about the first time you met. Then you can change it. From the beginning. You can have him back."  
  
"How?" Harry's attention was definitely caught.  
  
"Everything you did since the moment you met lead up to the his death. Go back, do things different and you can change it." The old man grinned again. "You can have him back for good." He held out the bottle to Harry watching him with amused eyes as if he could see the thoughts flying through Harry's mind. Harry looked at him skeptically but held out his hand reaching for the vial. The old man snatched it back just as Harry's hand touched the cool glass. He wagged his finger at Harry in mock disappointment.  
  
"No, no, no." His eyes turned cold and his tone brisk. "Fifty galleons."  
  
"Fifty galleons," Harry snarled. "Forget it old man. I'm not wasting my money on some crack pot old potion that probably won't even work!" Harry turned to leave but was once again stopped by the voice.  
  
"If you don't love him enough to pay fifty galleons then you don't disserve this potion. I thought you'd do anything to get him back, I must have been wrong."  
  
Harry was already rummaging in his robe pockets before the man had finished speaking furious that he dare insinuate that he didn't love Draco enough. He loved him more than bloody well he should! Harry grabbed the leather pouched that was filled with galleons and slammed it into the old man's hands without even bothering to count it before snatching the potion away.   
  
"There!" he snapped. "You got your stupid galleons. Go somewhere and waste it all on frewhisky and cheap thrills." The old man grabbed Harry's robe again and Harry thought for a moment he was going to hit him for being so rude. But instead he just breathed into his face, his breath smelling like decay and mold.  
  
"It'll only last until the day after he died. If you change it the right way he'll survive through the day but if you do it wrong he'll only die again. Each time you do something different something will change. You have to keep changing it until you get it right." With that he threw Harry away from him into the wall of the alley with a lot of force for such an old man and then hobbled away into the shadows.  
  
Harry stood for a moment watching the place where he disappeared to. Then he looked down at the vial, shrugged and continued on his walk.  
  
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It was few hours later that Harry Apparated back into Ron and Hermione's house. It was late so he walked quietly down the hall to his bedroom not wanting to disturb them or have them come running out asking him a hundred questions about where he had been.  
  
He shouldn't have been surprised to find them both sitting and waiting patiently on his bed when he opened the door.  
  
"Harry!" Hermione cried jumping up immediately to limp over to him and throw her arms around his neck. "Where were you? We were so worried!"  
  
Harry hugged her back automatically, more out of habit than anything, as he stared at Ron over her shoulder. He looked back at Harry grimly.  
  
"I went for a walk in Diagon Alley and then wandered into Knockturn."  
  
"Harry," Hermione said suddenly pulling back looking slightly frightened. "You went to Knockturn Alley. You know how dangerous it is there for someone like you!"  
  
"Someone like me!" Harry half yelled suddenly feeling angry at them for waiting up for him and telling him where he could and couldn't go like he was some kind of child. "Someone like me. What, someone who help kill hundreds of Death Eaters? Someone who rid the world of the Voldemort? Someone who lost a husband! Maybe that its." He was laughing now, a little hysterically. "Maybe it's not safe for someone as unstable as me. Maybe the worlds not safe enough some whack job like me! Maybe should lock me up in St. Mungo's and get it over with!"  
  
Hermione and Ron both winced visibly at the hard note in Harry's voice. Hermione glanced back at her husband to find him with one of his looks on his face. She had been married to Ron Weasley for three years now and had been with him about seven years before that. She knew each of his looks by heart and this was one she definitely knew better than others. It was the look he wore when working on a particularly hard case or when he was bringing in a criminal. It was a look of determination.   
  
And Hermione knew what he was determined about. He was going to make Harry listen.  
  
"Harry," Ron said softly standing up to stand beside his wife. "We know you loved him but what your doing isn't healthy. We understand that this hard for you to do but you can't hold on like this forever. It'll eat you up inside."  
  
"I didn't love him, that's the thing you don't understand," Harry said, his voice had dropped to a deadly whisper. For a moment Ron looked confused. "Saying I loved him implies past tense. I didn't just love him, I still do." He took a deep breath letting his anger simmer down. He wanted to tell them exactly how he felt so they would understand and to do that he needed to be calm.  
  
"That's what you don't get. I still love him and I'll never stop. As long as I'm here and he's not I'll always be empty. No matter how much I smile or laugh or try to forget it won't be enough because nothing can fill me like him. He made me whole and without him I'll only ever be half living. I just can't let him go because he's already taken too much of me. He's all I have left and if I let him go I'll be gone."  
  
Hermione looked at him with round shocked eyes glistening with tears. Her still bushy brown hair framed her round face which was etched with sadness and worry. Ron looked shocked for a moment at Harry's confession but shock quickly changed to determination once again.  
  
"Look Harry we know you love him and we're not asking you to forget him or anything you had together." His voice was stern and steady. He was going to talk some since into his friend if it was the last thing he did. And if that didn't work he'd have him locked up in St. Mungo's because anyone who talked to a dead person that wasn't a ghost was bordering on insane. "All we're asking you to do is accept that he's gone. He's not coming back. Nothing can bring him back. He's dead but that doesn't mean you have act like you are too."  
  
Harry took a long shaky breath while running his fingers threw his messy shoulder length hair. He let it out in a heavy sigh before dropping his hand back to his side. "Can we talk about this in the morning please," he said. "It's late. I'm tired, your tired. Let's just get some rest. I can't think clearly right now."  
  
"Of course, Harry," Hermione said sweetly while sending her husband a glare that said there'd be hell if he went against her.  
  
"Yeah," Ron said nodding. "We'll talk about it in the morning." They left the room but not before Hermione could give Harry another hug and whisper in his ear, "Get some rest Harry. You look so tired."  
  
And he was tired. More tired than he had been in a long time. Too tired, he knew, to Apparate to the grave to sleep by Draco. Once the door closed behind him he collapsed onto the bed face first letting his eyes shut. He shifted a little trying to get comfortable and felt something dig into his side. Sighing heavily he rolled over and pulled whatever it was out of his robes, meaning to toss it across the room, when his eyes caught onto the light shinning through the purple liquid. The Potion.  
  
Ron said there was no way to bring Draco back, nothing he could do. Even Dumbledore had told him once there was no spell to bring someone back from the dead. But Harry wasn't going to try to bring him back, he was going to make it so he never died in the first place.   
  
_But what if it's poison or something just as dangerous_, a voice in the back of his head whispered sounding strangely like Hermione. His common since voice had always sounded like Hermione.  
  
His Harry voice however just said, _What the hell, if it kills me at least I'll be with Draco again anyway._ So with that he uncorked the bottle and tossed the contents into his mouth.  
  
It tasted sour and sweet like lemon juice. Harry scrunched up his face and swallowed several times trying to get the taste out of his mouth. Then he fell back onto his bed closing his eyes to think about Draco, small and pale with his pointed little boy face standing on a footstool draped in black robes. He smile softly remembering the words, _"I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been--imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"_ said it that bored drawling voice. _That's my Draco_, was Harry's last thought as he drifted off to sleep the small empty vial slipping forgotten from his hand.

_-I hope you can hear me_

_I remember it clearly_

_The day you slipped away_

_Was the day I found_

_It won't be the same--_Avril Lavigne, Slipped Away.

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**A/N: **For all those who are reading my other story I just want to say don't worry I will be finishing it. This idea just jumped into my head and I spent half the night writing this chapter. I like this story line and it just came so easy. I had absolutly no trouble writing it at all. I will be working on both stories now because really my life is so boring I had nothing else to do. Thanks-**SlowSister.**


	2. Change

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own anything from the world of Harry Potter. It's all JK's. I wish I did but I don't. Get over it, I have.  
  
**SUMMARY:** "You can change it if you start from the beginning." After Draco dies Harry finds it hard to let go. Then he meets a old man in Knockturn Alley who sales him a potion and convinces him he can change it if he starts from the beginning.  
  
**WARNING: **This is a slash story meaning boy/boy relationship. If you don't like it, don't read it. I am warning you for a reason.  
  
**A/N:** Whoa! 18 reviews for the first chapter alone. I have never had that many reviews ever! let alone on one chapter. Of course I'm still kind of new at this but still WHOA! I never considered anyone would like this story so much. I just wrote the first chapter on a whim, I haven't even planned the whole story out! So if the story turns out to suck I would like to say sorry in advance for letting you all down. I can only hope this new chapter is half as good to you as the first. I am so amazed and grateful for all the reviews and because of this I've decided to personally thank all of you. If you don't want to read a whole lot of review replies you should just scroll down to the chapter but if you reviewed the first chapter and want hear my reply, read on!  
  
**Rena: Thanks for reviewing. I most definitely be continuing this story. How could I not with all these lovely reviews!  
  
Fluffyluver: Is this soon enough for you?  
  
Lord of the Potters: Thank you! I've never really liked my own writing so it's good to know some one else does.  
  
Kuroneko89: Just to clear it up for you: Draco died from the combined impact of a bludger to the head and the force of hitting the ground. And I don't know, Harry just may screw up, we all know who clueless he is! lol!  
  
lol: Gotta love the threats! "Or else" will definitely keep me writing.  
  
Shi Ruroune of the Aphrodesiac: Rox your sox?. . .hmm.  
  
Feffer: I don't know if they'll get together. I might just go for a teary sad ending.  
  
FredandGeorgeRmine: Thanks! Was it really that good? I hope so.  
  
Kristie: Thanks for the review!  
  
Silverflames03: Did you really start to cry? Wow powerful impact there. Let me take a moment to bask in that knowledge.  
****Lilthy: Thanks for reviewing. I hope you like the new chapter!  
  
kt: Hope this chapter makes you even more hopeful!  
  
Sak: Things are definitely going to change for little Harry, big time! Read on!  
  
Blondel: Yes I'm really sixteen. Please never tell me I seem older! 10 years! Geez, that's enough to spoil some ones day. lol!  
  
Saki: Thanks for reviewing. Hope this chapter is out soon enough for you.  
  
Youko Gingitsune: Everyone loves Draco. He's too hot not to love!  
  
Pixi: I'll try to finish but I can't make any promises. . .**  
  
Thanks again to all my reviewers. I love reviews! I can't get enough of them. Make sure to read the **IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE** at the end of the chapter.   
  
Now to the story!   
  
P.S. I wrote the scene where Draco offers Harry his hand like the scene in the movie instead of how it was in the book, you know inside the school instead of on the train. It just fit better that way.

P.P.S. If this chapter is kind of boring I'm sorry but it was necessary. I used a lot of scenes from the book though they aren't entirely the same some are almost exact.  
  
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**Chapter 2: Change**  
  
_-Sometimes I remember the darkness of my past  
  
Bringing back these memories I wish I didn't have  
  
Sometimes I think of letting go and never looking back  
  
And never moving forward so there would never be a past-  
_  
_The most popular devise in wizarding history dealing with time travel is a potion that goes by the Latin name Praeter-Mutare, literally translated to mean past-change. The Praeter-Mutare is a thick purple potion that taste vaguely like lemons when swallowed. This potion allows the drinker's soul to leave his body and travel back to the body of their past self. Once in their past self's body the drinker will be able to change their future by altering their past. The drinker does not have complete control over their past self's actions but will only be able to sway their past self's decisions. The past self of the potion drinker will not be aware their future selfs are inhabiting their body. They will only be aware of a vague difference in themselves that the will not be able to explain. They will also find themselves making choices they would not normally make. Usually the drinker will have one specific event in mind that they wish to change. While inside their past selfs body, they will be able to see how the changes they make effect the future through veiwing their past selfs dreams. Once their past selfs have lived through the event the drinker wished to change the drinker will wake up a day after they took the potion to the new future. Upon the waking the past soul and future soul will merge together. As a result the potion drinker will not remember anything of the former past, instead the changed past will replace those memories and the former past will be no more. The Praeter-Mutare potion was outlawed in the mid-nineteenth century and labeled as a Dangerous and Classified Potion. In the early nineteen hundreds Sidarr Sidda, a potion's master famous for his hunched back and striking blue eyes, began to brew and sale the Praeter-Mutare potion illegally in the underground Black Market. Sidarr Sidda was caught and cornered by Auror's five years later only to some how mysteriously escape. He has not been seen since, though some have claimed to have bought an illegal Praeter-Mutare off a hunched back man with blue eyes.  
_  
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Harry felt different. He hadn't felt that way all morning. Not when he had woken to discover that everything that had happened the night before wasn't a dream. Not when he and Hagrid had entered to Leaky Caldron, not when he discovered he was famous, not when had entered Gringrotts and saw real goblins. No Harry hadn't started to feel different until he opened the door to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, then suddenly he felt something inside him change. Something that was just. . . different.  
  
Before he could ponder the difference, however, a squat woman dressed all in mauve hurried up to him smiling kindly. Harry assumed this must be Madam Malkin.  
  
"Hogwarts dear?" she asked before Harry could even begin to speak. Harry nodded mutely. "Got the lot here -- another young man being fitted up just now, in fact."  
  
She led Harry to the back of the shop, where a boy about his age was standing on a footstool was being fitted into long black robes by another witch. Harry stopped dead in his tracks and stared at the boy. He was very pale, with a pointed face and short white blond hair which was slicked back from his face. He looked down at Harry with a pair of familiar grey eyes. Harry had seen those eye's before somewhere, had seen that whole face in fact, but he couldn't remember where it could have possibly been.  
  
The something different inside Harry stirred but it was at that moment the pale boy started to speak and the stirring went unnoticed.  
  
"Is there a reason your staring?" the boy asked in bored voice. Harry felt his cheeks turn red as he noticed that not only was the boy staring at him so were the two witches.  
  
"No," Harry mumbled, quickly adverting his eyes. "Sorry."  
  
Feeling very dumb Harry stood on the stool next to the boy. Madam Malkin pulled a long black robe over his head, and began to pin it to right length.  
  
"So," the boy suddenly said, startling Harry a bit. "Are you going to Hogwarts too?"  
  
"Yes," Harry answered, for some reason finding it hard not to look at the other boy. He didn't know what it was but he was almost positive he had seen him somewhere, like in a dream. And he had a distinct feeling it had been a very good dream.   
  
Harry glanced over at him as the boy continued to talk in the same drawling, bored voice. Harry was barely listening to what he was saying, he was too busy studying him. He had a very distinct air about him, something that made Harry sure he wouldn't like forget him. It was in the way he held himself. There was a certain pride and arrogance about he way he held his head and shoulders. Harry had never seen any kid his age stand like that. But there was something wrong with his face, something not right, and Harry couldn't place what it was. Harry suddenly became aware that the boy had asked him a question.  
  
"Huh?" Harry asked confused.   
  
"Have you got your own broom?" the boy repeated.  
  
"Um, no," Harry said. Why would he want his own broom? Did witches and wizards really fly on brooms?  
  
"Play Quidditch at all?"  
  
Harry once again found himself completely confused. Not because he didn't know what the boy was talking about but because the word Quidditch sounded strangely familiar, just like the boy looked familiar. Not only that but at the mention of the word he felt a certain excitement arise in him that made him want to run right out the shop, jump on . . . something and do . . . something. He didn't know what though.  
  
"No," Harry finally answered feeling a little dazed.  
  
"_I_ do --- Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you'll be in yet?"  
  
"Um, no?" Harry ventured. He once again felt incredibly stupid. House? Did they get their own individual house at school? That sounded rather absurd.  
  
"Well, no one knows until they get there, do they, but I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been -- imagine being in Hufflepuff-"  
  
"-I think I'd leave, wouldn't you." Harry finished. The boy turned to stare at Harry.  
  
"That's exactly what I was going to say," he said with a slight up turn of his lips that couldn't really be called a smile but wasn't a frown either. It made his face look even stranger to Harry. "Funny."  
  
Harry nodded numbly. Where had that come from? he thought. I don't even know what he's talking about and I'm somehow finishing his sentences? Harry shook his head trying to clear it of his rapid thoughts.  
  
"I say, look at that man!" said the boy suddenly, nodding toward the front window. Hagrid was standing there grinning at Harry and pointing at two large ice creams to show he couldn't come in.  
  
"That's Hagrid," said Harry, happily latching onto a subject he was familiar with. "He works at Hogwarts."  
  
"Oh," said the boy, his face pointed with disgust. "I've heard of him. He's sort of a servant isn't he?"  
  
"He's the gamekeeper," Harry said, suddenly not very interested in the other boy anymore.  
  
"Yes, exactly. I heard he's a sort of _savage_ -- lives in a hut on the school grounds and every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic, and end up setting fire to his bed."  
  
"I think he's brilliant," said Harry coldly.  
  
"_Do_ you?" said the boy, with a slight sneer now on his face. Harry realized that was what had been missing from the other boys face to make it look so strange. Harry was quite certain the other boy sneered an awful lot. "Why is he with you? Where are your parents?"  
  
"They're dead," Harry said shortly. He didn't feel muck like going into the matter with this boy.  
  
"Oh, sorry," said the other, not sounding very sorry at all. "But they were _our_ kind, weren't they?"  
  
"They were a witch and wizard, if that 's what you mean."  
  
The boy went on once again and once again Harry found himself not listening. He tuned the other boy out and concentrated instead on his own thoughts. What was happening to him. First that feeling he had gotten the moment he walked into the shop. That feeling of being slightly different. Then their was the boy, he still swore he had seen him somewhere, then that odd quidditch word, the finishing the other boy's sentence. Something was definitely a little strange and the weirdest part was he didn't know wether to be scared, angry or excited. He did know, however, that he was confused. Once again the boy interrupted his thoughts with a question.  
  
"What's your surname, anyway?"  
  
Thankfully, before Harry could answer and deal with all the Harry Potter crap, Madam Malkin said, "That's you done, my dear," and Harry hurriedly hopped down from the footstool.  
  
"Well, I'll see you at Hogwarts, I supposed," said the drawling boy. Harry nodded rather curtly while thinking, 'I hope not '.  
  
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"--packed with Muggles, of course --"  
  
Harry turned at the word Muggle. He had been standing around hopelessly at the train station for twenty minutes trying to figure out exactly he was going to make the train if he couldn't even find the platform. He had just been about to give up and walk back to the Dursley's when he heard the woman speaking from just behind him.  
  
The speaker was a plump woman surrounded by four boys and a small girl, all of whom had flaming red hair. All four boys were pushing trunks just like Harry's in front of them, one of them even had a owl on top of their trunk.  
  
The scene seemed so perfectly normal to Harry that he didn't even hesitate to walk up to the group as the stopped in front of the barrier between platforms nine and ten.  
  
"Excuse me," Harry said to the plumb woman. She turn to look at him, a kind smile on her face. All five children turned to look at Harry as well, slightly curious looks on their faces.  
  
"Hello, dear," she said. "First time at Hogwarts? Ron's new too."  
  
She pointed at he last and youngest of her sons. He was tall, thin and gangling, with freckles, big hands and feet, and a long nose. Harry blinked a few times at the boy, once again hit with a feeling of familiarity. He knew for certain he had seen this boy somewhere, there was not a doubt in his mind that he had met this Ron before but once again he couldn't remember where.  
  
"Yes," Harry said after a moment, answering the woman's question. "The thing is -- the is thing, I don't know how to --"  
  
"How to get on the platform," said what appeared to be the oldest boy. He raised his head in a completely superior way that made Harry feel incredibly small. "It's really quite simple--" he began but he was cut off by another one of the boys.  
  
"Please, Percy," he said rolling his eyes. "We don't want asleep before he can get on the train now, do we?" The boy Percy looked slightly affronted, turning a pale shade of pink.  
  
"Yeah, Perce," said another of the boys that looked exactly like the one who had interrupted Percy. So much like the other boy in fact, Harry thought for a moment he was the same boy. "If you start talking we'll all miss the train. Just watch us," he said turning to Harry.  
  
Harry watched as the one of the twin boys turned towards the barrier and began walking briskly at it. After a moment he picked up a little speed until he was going at a slight jog. Harry stood waiting for the other boy to slow down or turn or something but he didn't and Harry was just getting ready to yell for him to watch out but then suddenly he was gone.  
  
The other of the twins quickly followed suit, heading straight for the barrier. More ready this time Harry watched the other boy disappear just before he should have collided into the brick barrier.  
  
"How," Harry said faintly as he watched to third boy, Percy, disappear.  
  
"All you have to do is walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten," the woman said. "Don't stop and don't be scared you'll crash into it, that's very important. Best do it at a bit of a run if you're nervous. Go on, go now before Ron."  
  
"Er -- okay," said Harry."  
  
He pushed his trolley around and stared at the barrier. It look very solid.  
  
He started to walk toward it picking up speed as he went, watching it get closer and closer. By time he was just inches from the barrier he was going at a heavy run. Harry at first felt a little panicked. He knew he was going to hit the wall and at the speed he was going he was definitely going to get hurt. But then a voice in the pack of his head said quite clearly, 'Calm down. You'll be fine.' Not sure where such reasonable voice had come from, Harry non the less listened to it and calmed down. He looked at the barrier rushing up to him, blinked and then suddenly he was through.  
  
Harry looked around him quite surprised. A crowd of people pushing carts and lugging trunks crowed around a scarlet steam engine. Behind him where the barrier had been were the words Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.  
  
Harry began to push his cart down the train looking for an empty compartment. He finally found one near the back and after putting Hedwig in first he went back for his trunk. After several minutes of unsuccessfully trying to pull it up the steps to the train he was helped the twin red heads who had shown him how to get through the barrier. They introduced themselves as Fred and George Weasley and then proceeded to gawk unabashed at Harry when he told them his own name. Thankfully they were called away by their mother, leaving Harry to sit alone in his compartment.  
  
A few moments after the train had begun to move the boy Ron walked into the compartment. Harry felt as if he should be angry with this boy but he didn't understand why. He had the feeling the boy had done something to him recently to warrant anger but once again he came up blank on what it was the boy could have done.  
  
"Anyone sitting there?" he asked, pointing the seat opposite Harry. "Everywhere else is full." Harry shock his head and the boy sat down. He glanced up a Harry he gaze flickering to Harry's forehead before he quickly looked out the window. Harry got the feeling Fred and George had said something to the other boy about who he was. Harry wondered if that was the real reason Ron had come to sit in his compartment.  
  
The twins came back into the compartment telling Ron about someone named Lee Jordan who had a giant tarantula. Harry wasn't really listening but said bye anyway when the twins left.  
  
"Are you really Harry Potter?" Ron asked after they had left. Harry nodded and went back to staring out the window showing Ron that he really didn't want to talk. Ron seemed to get the point because he shut-up immediately and started staring out the window as well.  
  
Harry watched the scenery go by outside his window feeling a little guilty. He didn't know why he was being so rude to Ron but something inside him was fuming. Something in him was definitely angry at the other boy for reasons he couldn't grasp. Harry was also starting to scare himself.  
  
It seemed that more often he found himself thinking that "something inside him" was feeling and remembering certain things. He was beginning to treat these new feelings almost causally. If there was indeed something inside him he thought he really should be feeling at least a little nervous or frightened about it but he wasn't. It wasn't as if this thing were taking over or trying to change him, in fact it didn't feel so much different from him at all. It was as if it were him but a slightly different him. He couldn't really grasp what it was. He knew, however, afraid of if only afraid of how unafraid of it he was.  
  
They had been traveling sometime when a woman with a trolly came by selling sweets. Harry had never seen any of these kinds of candies in his whole life. Chocolate Frogs, Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, Pumpkin Paties, Cauldron Cakes and a number of other things. Harry had never had any money before that was all to himself, so, not wanting miss out on anything, he decided to buy some of everything.  
  
Harry was just biting into a pumpkin pastry when he noticed Ron pulling out a rather squashed looking package. He unwrapped it and brought out one of four sandwiches. He looked at it with a pained expression on his face before taking a small bite. Still feeling guilty about how he had earlier treated him, Harry offered him some of his sweets.  
  
"I got too much," Harry explained at Ron's surprised face. "I wouldn't it to got to waste."  
  
"You sure?" Ron asked, eyeing the pile of food.  
  
"Yeah," Harry said, suddenly feeling generous, his earlier feeling of anger gone. "Help yourself."  
  
"Thanks," Ron said rather shyly before picking up one of the Chocolate Frogs.  
  
They spent some time talking, Harry asking Ron about the sweets, while Ron answered all his questions with his mouth filled. Harry got a shock when one of the pictures from the Chocolate Frog cards moved but Ron quickly explained that in the wizarding world that's what pictures did.  
  
Harry found himself relaxing into the easy conversation, taking his mind off of . . . well, his mind. Ron wasn't too bad as long as he wasn't sneaking peeks at his forehead. About halfway through the ride a short round boy came in looking for his toad. He was quickly followed by a girl with bushy brown hair and large front teeth also looking for the toad. She had a rather bossy voice and it was the voice more than anything that hit Harry once again with the feeling he had met her before. After a short conversation where the girl talked on in superior fashion she left. Harry was quite glad, her voice was getting slightly annoying.  
  
Soon they were pulling into the station. He and Ron hurriedly put on their robes and began to make their way off the train. Outside it was dark but Harry could make out Hagrid over the crowd of students ushering all the first years towards him. Ron and Harry followed as Hagrid led all the first years to a lake where a fleet of boats sat. They all clamored into the boats which immediately started bobbing and moving on their own.  
  
Harry was surprised when he got his first view of Hogwarts. Surprised because he felt as if was not his first view. It felt all too familiar, like going home.  
  
They were ushered into the castle and into a giant entrance hall by a black haired witch called Professor McGonagall. She had a strict looking face that made Harry think that she wasn't someone to mess with. She led them into a small chamber and quickly explained about being sorted into one of four different house, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, Slytherin and Gryffindor. She then turned and left them alone. Harry was just about to ask Ron how they were going to be sorted when three boys walked up to them.   
  
Harry instantly recognized the one in the middle as the boy from Madam Malkin's. Harry was once again hit with a feeling of familiarity, this time so strong he was surprised he didn't fall over. He knew this boy. He knew he knew him, far more than from a brief meeting in a rob shop. In fact he felt as if he knew the boy better than he knew anyone else in the world. But that wasn't all. This time a new feeling accompanied the familiarity as he looked at the boy. He felt sad. Beyond sad, heartbroken as if he were about to cry.  
  
Harry shook his head clearly his mind of those thoughts that he knew weren't his anyway. They belonged to the "something" that was inside him. He instead focused on just looking at the boy.  
  
"Your Harry Potter, then?" the boy asked.  
  
"Yes," Harry answered, as whispers started spreading in the group of first years around them.  
  
"This is Crabbe and this is Goyle," the boy said indicating to the two boys who stood beside him. They were big and bulky looking and they stood by the other boy like body guards. "And I'm Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."  
  
Ron coughed, which Harry was pretty sure was just covering a snigger. Harry wondered why Ron was laughing. So far Draco had been almost pleasant, much better than he had been in the shop. Harry wasn't sure he had done anything yet to deserve to be laughed at, that's why when Draco spoke next Harry only felt a little sorry for Ron.  
  
"Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles and more children than they can afford."  
  
He turned back to Harry. "You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."  
  
He held out his hand to shake Harry's. Harry hesitated. He didn't really like this Malfoy kid. He was just about to snub Draco Malfoy off with some cool comment when a voice in the back of his head said softly, 'Take his hand'. What? Harry thought. Where had that come from. 'Take his hand' the voice said again this time clearer. Without a second thought Harry took Draco's outstretched hand.  
  
Harry felt a jolt run through him as soon as his skin made contact with Draco's. He looked up at the other boy who was looking at him with wide grey eyes. He had felt it too. Draco quickly covered his surprise by smiling slightly.  
  
"Welcome to the club, Potter."  
  
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A three legged stool stood in front of them inside the Great Hall. Four tables of students sat staring at them, while a table of teachers sat behind them. On the stool sat an old battered looking wizard's hat. It had already surprised most of the first years by singing a spirited song. They had further surprised when they realized the hat was how they were to be sorted into their houses. Several students had already been sorted while the ones that hadn't waited for their turn.  
  
"Malfoy, Draco," Professor McGonagall called out. Draco, who had been standing beside Harry swaggered forward and sat down on the stool. Professor McGonagall raised the hat over his head. It had barely touched him when it shouted "Slytherin!" The Slytherin table erupted in cheers as Draco made his way over to join Crabbe in Goyle.  
  
All too soon "Potter, Harry" was being called and Harry was walking towards the stool. The whole hall filled with whispers of _"Potter,_ did she say?" and "_The_ Harry Potter?".  
  
Harry sad down and the hat was dropped onto his head, falling over his eyes.  
  
"Hmm," said a small voice in his ear. "Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, oh my goodness yes -- and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting. . . . So where shall I put you?"  
  
Harry gripped the edges of the stool and thought, _Not Slytherin, not Slytherin_. Hagrid had told Harry all about Slytherin and how the turned out to be mostly bad wizards. Harry definitely didn't want to be in the same house as the person that killed his parents. The prospected alone terrified.  
  
"Not Slytherin, eh?" said the small voice. "Are you sure? You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on your way to greatness, not doubt about that."  
  
Harry was once again thinking, _Not Slytherin_, over in his head when a different voice suddenly interrupted his thoughts. It wasn't the voice of the sorting hat, nor was it his voice, it was the voice he had been hearing lately, the voice that told him to do things. 'Why not Slytherin' it said. 'It might not be that bad. After all, Draco's there, isn't he. Aren't you his friend now.' _I don't know_, Harry answered. _What if all the things they say are true? _'You can't believe everything you hear. Go ahead, just think Slytherin..'  
  
_Well, I guess Slytherin might be okay_.   
  
"Slytherin!" The hat shouted. For a moment there was completely silence as Harry took off the hat and everyone stared at him, shocked. Then the Slytherin table burst into cheers, louder than they had cheered for anyone all night. Harry smiled slightly to himself as he made his way to the Slytherin table. Draco had pushed Crabbe over ruffly to make room for Harry. He was smiling widely at when he sat down and Harry had to think maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all.  
  
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That night Harry had a dream. Or it seemed like a dream. It was really just flashes of images, so he really wasn't sure.  
  
A man with a purple turban. A boy with red hair glaring. A large black dog. A dragon, a pair of red eyes, a globe of golden light, a shattering glass. A pale boy with blond hair laughing, sneering, crying. Glistening lips. Blood, screaming, still bodies. Maniacal laughter. The pale boy again covered in blood, head held high, surrounded by still bodies, as a man pointed a wand at him. Then flashing green light and the boy falling to the ground. Still.  
  
The next morning the only things Harry remembered from his dream was the flash of green light, the still body, and the fact that the pale blond boy looked exactly like Draco.  
  
_-If I could change I would  
  
Take back the pain I would  
  
Retrace every wrong move that I made I would  
  
If I could   
  
Stand up and take the blame I would  
  
I would take all my shame  
  
To the grave--_Linkin Park, Easier To Run  
  
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**IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE**: Okay, because I am such a hopeless loser and can never make up my mind I'm going to ask your help with a little problem I have with this story. You see I can't figure out if I should tell the story going through each year to show how things have changed or if I should just jump ahead to the sixth year. If I go through each year the slash won't be until much, much later in the story. If I jump to sixth year the slash will be sooner. Also if I start in the sixth year I'll explain the last five years in a series of flashbacks and explanations from both Harry's. I personally think it would be easier for me to just jump to sixth year but I'm not entirely sure. I need your help, so please tell me what you think I should do in your review: Go through the years or jump forward. Thanks, and the sooner you review and tell me the sooner I can write and get out the next chapter! Oh, and can some one please email me and tell me what exactly a beta is. I know they correct stuff but I'm not sure how it really works. I think I could really use one. REVIEW!


	3. Nightmares and Rescues

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own anything from the world of Harry Potter. It's all JK's. I wish I did but I don't. Get over it, I have.  
  
**SUMMARY:** "You can change it if you start from the beginning." After Draco dies Harry finds it hard to let go. Then he meets a old man in Knockturn Alley who sales him a potion and convinces him he can change it if he starts from the beginning.  
  
**WARNING:** This is a slash story meaning boy/boy relationship. If you don't like it, don't read it. I am warning you for a reason.  
  
**A/N:** There were so many review for the last chapter I can't even thank you all personally! So I just want to give a big **THANK YOU** to everyone who reviewed. I appreciate every single one of you. I also want to say **THANK YOU** to everyone for giving me their opinion on what I should do, go through the years or start in the sixth year. I don't think I would have been able to decide without your help. All your input has led me to the decision to jump ahead and start it off in Harry and Draco's sixth year. There will be flash backs through out the chapters but they will not be in any pacific order. I will let you know when the flash back is taking place so don't worry about that.  
  
This chapter may be a little confusing and it won't go at all really into what has happened over past few years, that will have to wait until next chapter. Everything is going to start off pretty quickly so be prepared. Read on!  
  
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Chapter Three: Nightmares and Rescues  
  
_-I keep on dreamin' because I can  
  
Even though my eyes don't close  
  
I keep on trippin' because it's free  
  
To a place I only know-  
_  
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_There is something deep inside Harry Potter. Something that lay curled up in the deepest corner of his mind, almost asleep. It had been laying dormant for some time, occasionally making it's presence known to help push little Potter in the right directions. Otherwise it lay, silent and still, waiting for the time it would be needed.   
  
It seemed it's first decisions, putting Harry in Slytherin and befriending Draco Malfoy, were changes that caused a chain reaction. Everything Harry did after that was different and that would have suited the something fine except the dreams kept coming. Draco killed in the war right before his eyes with a flash of green light that could only be one thing. Every dream was the same, they hadn't changed yet. But everything else did keep changing. The something was confused and frustrated but it would not give up hope. So it watched and waited for the time when it could make the right change that would bring him back for good.   
_  
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Gray fog was swirling around his feet, misting his skin with cool droplets. The sky was dark as if a black cloak had been draped over it muting out the stars and moon. The air felt thick and tasted of salt and rain as he opened his mouth to take in a shuddering breath. All around him dark figures moved in billowing cloaks, the flash of a white mask slipping from his view. There were voices raised, frantic calling and low moaning, mingling with the sound of muffled footsteps and above it all the crash of the sea against rock, spraying foam and water.  
  
Harry shivered as he listened to the sound of grinding metal as cells where unlocked and blown open. Huddled figures stumbled from dark caves, their eyes bulging and rolling back in their skeletal skulls, mouths like gaping holes sucking in life. Harry's whole body felt incased in ice, a cold sweat breaking out on his neck and forehead. His mother's cries called dully from deep in his mind as hooded black figures glided by paying no attention to the mayhem around them.  
  
Suddenly a loud cry pierced through the muted sounds. The throng of black figures were suddenly dotted with blue and red cloaks. Flashes of light lit the darkness. Red, blue, green, gold. Shouts of alarm, cries of pain, moans of anguish filled the air along with the silver glow of flying shapes, that began to bare down on the gliding black figures.  
  
The ground was being littered with fallen bodies, splashes of glistening red liquid trailed across the stone floor. Harry could see faces. Faces of fear and shock and of determination and resolution. Wands were raised, incantations were bellowed, sparks were shot. Harry stood amidst the chaos like a phantom, observing it all but taking no part in it's doings. Spells flew through him, figures swept by him but none registered his presences. It was as if he was not there.  
  
Then he felt them. The eyes that bore into his back with a ferocious hunger. That made his skin crawl and the hairs on his arms raise. That made his stomach churn and his heart race with fear and hatred.  
  
Harry turned to face the man in the black cloaks. His face was ghastly pale, his nose flat and flaring like a snake, his eyes no more than two red slits in a stretched face. His lips curled and white teeth gleamed in the darkness. When the voice spoke it was the hissing of a snake but Harry understood it non the less.  
  
"Welcome to my Rein Of Darkness, Harry. " The red eyes flickered dangerously. "I'll be seeing you soon."  
  
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Harry woke with fire searing across his forehead and down to his eyes which watered from the pain. He gasped out loud and clutched his hands to his face. A low scream of pain tore itself from his lips and escaped into his dark quiet room as his back arched up off the bed. He tried to open his eye but found to his horror he could see nothing but blinding red. He felt as if his eyeballs were scorched with flames and his forehead was being pounded with a hammer.  
  
Harry squeezed his eyes shut against the pain. Another scream escaped his lips though this time it was slightly breathy. He forced himself to gulp in a mouthful of air and to relax his body. Slowly the pain began to recede from his scar until it was only a slight thumping like a blood vessel under his skin.  
  
He slowly opened his eyes but shut them again immediately as his vision blurred and swam before him making him feel sick and dizzy. Reaching blindly he retrieved his glasses from his bedside table and pushed them onto his face. Once again opening his eyes he sighed in relief as his vision cleared and he was staring at his normal, dark room.  
  
Blinking in confusion he sat up and fumbled against the wall until the room was flooded with light. He stared around, finding comfort that everything was in it's proper place. Hedwig was snoozing softly in her cage on his desk, his few birthday cards were lined up there as well, along with his open potions book. Even though everything seemed perfectly fine he still felt disorientated from his dream. He remembered every single detail of it, from the mist on his skin to the taste of the air. He knew what had taken place in that dream and the thought alone made his blood run cold because he knew it was no ordinary dream. It had been real.  
  
Voldemort had freed the prisoners from Azakaban.  
  
But there had also been the blue and red clad figures. Harry knew that Aurors wore powder blue robes and the red could possibly be those of the order. The Aurors and order members in the dream led Harry to believe that not only had it already happened, it was possibly happening right now.  
  
He knew Voldemort had not truly been there, he would not have risked himself getting caught. The whole dream had been a message from Voldemort. Never had Harry's scar hurt so badly before, it was almost as if it had been set aflame from the inside out. And his vision going red? The only thing he could think of that compared to the pain he just felt was cruciatus. Harry wouldn't be surprised if Voldemort had somehow sent the pain as well.   
  
Harry had to admit to himself that he was a little frightened. He knew he would never get used to the feeling of having Voldemort inside his mind. But what scared just a little more was that he felt relieved. Relieved because he wasn't having one of his normal nightmares, the nightmares where he saw his best friend being killed. He had been having him ever since he started Hogwarts and thought he should have been used to them by then but they still disturbed him. Even more than his Voldemort dreams and he couldn't understand why.  
  
The words Voldemort had spoken in his dream came back to him, _Welcome to my Rein Of Darkness, Harry. I'll be seeing you soon._ Chills raced down Harry's spine.  
  
_Tap.  
_  
Harry almost jumped clear out of his skin from the startling sound.  
  
_Tap, tap, tap.  
_  
Glancing at his window, Harry saw a brown owl perched outside tapping lightly against the glass pane. Moving quickly to his feet, Harry walked across he room and swiftly threw open the window. The owl swooped in and dropped the folded letter, with a soft hoot, at Harry's feet. It circled the room once before sweeping back out the open window. Hedwig, who had awoken at the tapping, watched this all with a rather bored expression. Seemingly annoyed, she ruffled her feathers once before choosing to go back to sleep.  
  
Harry closed the window and then picked up the letter curiously. Scrawled out on the front in neat, slanting script, were only two letters, SH. Feeling a bubble of excitement starting in his stomach, Harry ripped open the letter and read it contents hurriedly:  
  
_SH,  
  
Get ready. Two OM's are on there way over to get you. Look for the green sparks. They'll be taking you to a safe house. I'll see you there.  
  
SP.  
_  
That's it, Harry thought. _No Hello, Harry, how are you or Sorry I didn't write at all this summer._ Harry understood the need to be discreet and quick but he could have at least given him some kind of personal message.   
  
Ever since the thing last year at the Ministry of Magic things had been strange between Harry and his best friend. It was awkward and stressed, almost forced. Harry didn't know how to handle it. Every time he tried to talk about it the subject was just brushed away with a cool glance. Then he hadn't received not one letter from his friend since school let out. Not even a card on his birthday. Harry was beginning to wonder if his friend blamed him for what had happened. He really hoped not, it wasn't as if there was something he could've done to prevent it. _Maybe he regrets ever being your friend in the first place, _he thought to himself._ After all you have made his life pretty tough by just being his friend.  
_  
Harry would never admit it, especially not to _him_, but he had begun to get worried. Last time he had went without receiving a letter from his friend during the summer things had been going very badly. That was last summer and Harry couldn't imagine how things could be going badly now, not with him safe at his godfathers house and with his father in Azakaban. But if Azakaban had been broken into, it wouldn't be long until his father was out once again. Harry didn't want to think about that.  
  
Sighing wearily Harry pushed those thoughts away. That would have to wait until later, right now he had to focus on what the letter had said. He read over it once more. Two order members were on their way to get him? What for? And what was a safe house?  
  
Harry looked at the handwriting on the paper, it was a very distinct scrawl and the code names were definitely ones they used (though Harry didn't like them too much). It wasn't likely that the letter was a fake.  
  
Having deciding that the letter was in fact real Harry began to get to work with his things. He moved quickly around the room throwing all his discarded clothes into his trunk along with any books he had out and his pile of birthday cards. All stray quills and parchment were thrown on top of everything else before he snapped the trunk closed with a soft thunk. He listened for a moment, making sure his that no one had heard his progress in the other rooms. The only sound that came to his ears were those of Dudley's snoring in the next room.  
  
He took out a regular piece of paper and a pen and wrote a short note to the Dursley's telling them that he was gone and not to get their hopes up because he would be back next summer. He left it on his desk and grabbed his wand from under his pillow, stuffing it in his back pocket. He then turned to look out the window and wait.  
  
Why, he wondered, were they on their way to get him now. It was two o'clock in the morning! The Dursley's were still in the house. Last time they had come to get him they had sent the Dursley's out and a whole fleet of people had come for him, not just two. Something wasn't right, Harry could feel it, he just didn't know what it was exactly.  
  
Harry had been waiting all of fifteen minutes when he saw the green sparks shooting across the black sky, cresting the tree tops. Harry stood up, getting prepared to leave when he realized he didn't know what to do. The letter hadn't given him any instructions except for to watch for the green sparks. Now that he had seen the sparks he was at a lost. Was he to go outside and meet them? He'd have considerable trouble getting his trunk out there quietly without using magic. Was he to wait until they knocked on the door so he could let them? That seemed like a stupid thing to do.  
  
Making up his mind Harry walked out of his room into the dark hallway without his trunk. His wand was clutched tightly in his hand as he made his way as silently as possible down the steps. Since the sparks had come from closer to the backyard than the front, Harry headed into the kitchen and out the back door.  
  
A sliver of a moon hung in the sky casting a pale glow over the dew glistening grass. Harry squinted, trying to see in the faint light. He looked from the empty stone bench to the low shrubs that lined the yard, searching for any movement. From what he could see the yard was completely empty.  
  
The soft sound of footsteps caught his attention and he turned to look at the gap between the side of he house and the neighbors fence. A shadow, followed by another, detached themselves from the side of the house and two figures began to move towards him. Raising his wand, Harry watched the figures as they drew closer. One was tall, it's shadow stretching across the lawn, while the other was shorter and wider like that of a large animal.  
  
_"Lumos,"_ a deep voice croaked. A light was suddenly flooded the shadowed lawn and Harry could see the face of his rescuer.  
  
"Professor Lupin?" Harry asked softly. He kept his wand up. Lupin stood before him with slight smile on his haggard face. Beside him stood a large black dog with a red collar. It looked just like the dog Harry had seen in his third year, the one he believed was the grim, except for the collar.  
  
"Hello Harry," Lupin greeted. "You can lower your wand now."  
  
"How do I know it' really you?" Harry asked, his wand still raised. Remus' smile  
  
widened.  
  
"I taught you how to cast a patronus, which takes the shape of a stag."  
  
"Okay," Harry said grinning. "What's with the dog?"  
  
"Just an old friend. Where's your trunk Harry?"  
  
"Up in my room . . ." Harry began but he trailed off at the look on his former professors face. He was glancing around anxiously as if waiting for something to happen. "What's wrong?"  
  
"Nothing Harry," Lupin said quickly with what looked like a forced smile. "I want you to stay here with Padfoot while I go get your trunk. Which room is yours?"  
  
"The first one at the top of the stairs. The lights on and the doors open."  
  
Lupin gave a quick nod before walking past Harry and disappearing into the house. Harry was left in the dark with the giant dog, Padfoot. Harry looked closely at the dog. It was gazing steadily at him with a pair of luminous eyes. There was something about those eyes that grabbed Harry's attention. They held expression, depth --- they weren't the eyes of a dog.  
  
'That's because it's not a dog,' a voice inside Harry said. Harry knew that voice, he had been hearing since he was eleven, right after he had found out he was a wizard. By now, even though he didn't know what it was, he had learned to trust it. It had never led him wrong.  
  
"Your not really a dog, are you," Harry mused aloud. The dog blinked but continued to stare at him. "I wonder who you really are."  
  
_Padfoot_, Harry thought. _I've heard that name before. Where did I hear that from?  
_  
Before Harry could figure out Professor Lupin emerged from the house with Harry's trunk and Hedwig's cage floating in front of him. Hedwig was giving the werewolf a reproachful look as he guiding her cage to where Harry and Padfoot where standing.  
  
"Okay, Harry," Lupin said rummaging in his robes with one hand. "Take Hedwig's cage."  
  
Harry grabbed Hedwig's cage as she tried to snipped angrily at his fingers through the bars. "Where are we going?" Harry asked. "Where's this safe house? How are we getting there?"  
  
"I can't tell you where we're going, not now Harry. You'll have to wait until we get there. We're taking a portkey."  
  
"Portkey? But I thought you couldn't do illegal portkey's. That's what you said last time-"  
  
"This time is different, Harry. We need to get you out of here as soon as possible." Lupin held up a hand as Harry opened his mouth to speak. "Not now. We'll tell you everything later. Take hold of this." He held out a small china tea-cup for Harry to take. Harry reached out and touched it with one hand while the other one clutched Hedwig's cage more tightly. Lupin held the cup in one hand as the other held onto the handle of Harry's trunk.  
  
"Okay, on the count of three. One, two, three. . ."  
  
Harry only had time to register that the dog, Padfoot, had suddenly run off, barking and growling before he felt the familiar pull behind his navel and soon Private Drive was gone.  
  
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Harry was dumped un-ceremoniously onto the floor of what looked like a kitchen. Hedwig's cage went flying from his arm and rolled across the floor with Hedwig screeching all the way.  
  
"Graceful as always, Potter," a familiar voice drawled from somewhere in the room. Harry was too busy standing and rubbing his sore butt to pin point from where.  
  
"Shut it, Malfoy," he snarled. Looking around, Harry saw he was indeed in a rather large kitchen. He could smell tea and firewhisky in the air along with whatever had been dinner. A long table was sitting in the middle of the room and at the table sat two figures. One was a middle aged man with greasy black hair, a hooked nose and cold black eyes, and the other was a boy around Harry's age with a pale skin, bright blond hair and amused sneer on his face. Both were wearing black robes and had cups of tea steaming in front of them, though both cups looked full as if they had been too busy to drink.  
  
Harry glared at the boy as he went to retrieved Hedwigs cage. She snapped furiously at him as he tried to pick it up but calmed down considerably once he had her righted.  
  
"I take it you got my letter," Draco said to him in a bored tone while inspecting his finger nails. "Didn't have any problems getting here?"  
  
"Yes, I got your letter," Harry snapped. "And no, no problems getting here. Wherever here is."  
  
"Touchy," Draco said offhandedly but Harry noticed he relaxed visibly. "And this is the safe house, like I told you."  
  
"Where's Black," Snape asked Lupin who was pacing worriedly.  
  
"I don't know," Lupin answered, running a shaking hand through his greying hair. "Right as we were leaving he ran off. I think he saw someone."  
  
"He had the portkey, didn't he?"  
  
"Yes, he had the collar."  
  
"Who's Black?" Harry asked looking from one man to the other. "You mean the dog?" Draco heaved a huge exasperated sigh as if he was surrounded by morons.  
  
"Come on, Harry," he drawled standing up from the table. "Let's go to your room. Where's that damn house elf anyway."  
  
"Draco, language." Snape's tone was bored and implied that he really didn't care what kind of language the boy used.  
  
"Yeah, whatever," Draco said rolling his eyes before he screamed. "KREACHER!"  
  
"Could you possibly scream louder," Harry said. "I'm not sure they heard you in China."  
  
"Of course they did, my voice carries." Harry just continued to glare at the other boy who was looking back at him with one pale eyebrow raised in amusement. Harry was just about to ask Draco what he thought was so funny when a shuffling sound brought his attention to the door of the kitchen.  
  
Walking into the room was an old hunched back house elf. He was wearing something that looked an old diaper and had a huge grin on it's ugly face.  
  
"Yes, master Malfoy," it said. "How can I help you master Malfoy?"  
  
Draco raised his nose arrogantly in the air as if he could not be bothered with such a lowly creatures presence and said in a snotty superior voice, "Take that trunk and cage up the room beside mines and get the room prepared. And hurry on with it scum before I decide to give you clothes."   
  
The house elf let out a terrified squeak and snapped it's fingers. Harry's trunk and Hedwig's cage disappeared and the house elf scurried out the door.  
  
"I don't understand why that elf likes you so much," Snape mused with a slight sneer that was almost a smile.   
  
"It's because I'm a Malfoy. Everyone likes me." Even Harry couldn't help but smile a little.  
  
"Now, come along Potter. We've things to discuss." Draco swept from the room and, after an agreeing nod from Lupin, Harry followed.  
  
Outside the kitchen was dark, so dark Harry couldn't see a thing. "Draco?" Harry called.  
  
"Ssh, Potter, you don't want to wake anything up do you," Draco's hushed voice answered.  
  
"But I can't see," Harry whispered into the darkness. Harry heard Draco give a sigh and after a moment a hand grasped his wrist. Harry suppressed a smile even though he knew the other boy couldn't see him.  
  
"Here, follow me." Draco pulled Harry through what he supposed was a hallway for he could feel the walls pressing into him on either side. Harry wondered vaguely what Draco meant by waking something up but pushed the thought aside as just another thing he'd have to ask the blond. Suddenly Harry stumbled into a hard object and almost fell onto his face.  
  
"Steps," Draco said a moment too late. Harry glared at the darkness before him while taking the first step. "Gee, thanks," he mumbled.  
  
Harry stumbled clumsily up the steps cursing softly under his breath all the way, aware that the person in front of him was chuckling under their breath. Finally they came to a landing and Harry relaxed, no longer afraid he was going to fall onto his face. Draco kept pulling him along at a brisk pace, causing Harry to stumble a few times, so when Draco suddenly stopped Harry understandably banged rather forcefully into him, making the other boy stumble forward into the closed door.  
  
"Potter," Draco growled, rubbing his face.  
  
"Sorry, but maybe you could give me some warning next time." Draco sighed and pushed open the door.  
  
A large fire was lit on the opposite side of the room lighting the large space with golden light. A small black couch was situated in front of the fire along with a small wood side table. A large bed sat against one wall, while a wardrobe was pushed against the other.   
  
Draco strode into the room and allowed himself to flop down on the bed. Harry remained in the doorway for a moment looking at the other boy. He looked paler than usual and his eyes, which were usually sparkling grey with humor, were a flat cold grey. The firelight touched his pale hair giving it a faint orange glow. It was shorter than Harry remembered, only coming down to below his ears and for once was limp and un-gelled. Harry felt something stir inside him, something he chose to ignore like he had been doing for so long.   
  
Ever since the beginning of first year Harry and Draco had been inseparable. At first Harry wasn't sure he would ever like the blond boy but as the years passed Harry found himself warming to the other boy. He even appreciated his sick, twisted humor. They still disagreed on several things, like muggle-borns and half-bloods being inferior to pure-blood wizards. Draco still seemed to think himself and all other pure-blood wizards above the rest no matter how many times Harry pointed out to him that Harry himself was a half-blood. Draco would only say, quite simply, "There are always exceptions," and leave it at that.   
  
They fought often but always seemed to forget about it a few hours later and would treat it as if nothing had happened. The longest period of time they went without speaking was about a week but that was only because Draco had then left the next day for Christmas holidays and Harry had stayed behind at the school. Harry found it easy to be around Draco and it was only around Harry that Draco truly let down his guard.  
  
They did however, seem to get themselves into a lot of sticky situations. Draco's sneakiness and Harry's unusual bravery combined seemed to be the perfect formula for trouble. Almost every year they had managed to find themselves in the middle of every bad situation. So much so, they had been crowned the Slytherin Bad Boys by their fellow house mates. Draco blamed it all on Harry's, as he put it, "Gryffindor bravery". Not a year went by that Draco didn't tell Harry he should have been a Gryffindor. For some reason Harry always felt a small twinge of pride from this statement.  
  
But things had changed in their fifth year, even now Harry could feel the change. The air around them was tense and Harry could literally feel Draco's uneasy as he shifted on the bed. Harry wasn't ready to admit to himself exactly what had changed for him, so he penned the awkwardness on the events of last year.  
  
"Well," Draco drawled from his perch on the bed. "Are you going to just stand there stare at me all night. I know I'm gorgoes but I figured you had some questions you wanted answered."  
  
Harry shot Draco a weak glare before he moved to sit down on the bed beside his best friend leaving a considerable amount of space between them. If Draco noticed he didn't comment, he only waved his hand regally in Harry's direction and said, "Ask away."  
  
"Okay, let's start with, why the hell haven't you written to me all summer?"  
  
Draco smirked at his friend. "You're such a girl," he said and then began to tell Harry exactly what was going on.  
  
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_-I keep on dreamin' because I can  
  
Even though my eyes don't close  
  
I keep on slippin' out of this life  
  
Waiting for the drapes to close_ -- Katy Rose, Because I Can  
  
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**A/N:** That was chapter three! I hope you liked it. In chapter four you'll be figuring out exactly what is going on, where Harry's at (though you've probably already guessed!), what happened last year between Harry and Draco, who the dog is (you've probably already guessed that as well) and what is so wrong with the code names Draco used in his letter.  
  
Okay, one other thing, I **REALLY, REALLY** need a beta. Anyone who wants to beta read for me please e-mail me at I would like someone who has experience and who has written or beta read a slash story.  
  
Now you know what time it is REVIEW! REVIEW! I want to hear from everyone, don't hold back. Tell me exactly what you think: It sucked, It rocked, whatever, I just wanna hear from you. So one last time, REVIEW! 


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